The von Katte Affair
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: Gilbert stood besides Frederick, staring out into the courtyard of Kustrin. Neither of them wanted to be there. Neither of them wanted to see this. Neither of them should've seen this. It was the first time either of them had wanted to die.


Potsdam, 1730

Two sets of black toed boots clipped through the halls of the plainly decorated palace. The shorter of the two men talked animatedly about the state of the military. The taller one nodded along, only half paying attention since he'd heard this speech yesterday.

They were making their way towards the garden to watch one of the regiments run through its drills when a courtier stopped them. "Your majesty! Your majesty! I bring grave news from the border!" He skidded to a halt before the two men, almost crashing into the albino.

Frederick William assessed the courtier with annoyance. "What is it? Out with it, I don't have all day."

"His royal highness, the crown prince, he's fled for England. He was seized on the border with France with another officer. I believe he goes by the name of von Katte."

The king's jaw tightened. He turned around, facing away from everyone else. "What have they done with them?"

"They're holding onto them in Kustrin while awaiting your orders."

He spun back around, hitting the courtier in the knees with his cane, forcing the young man to come crashing down onto the floor. "Are you a fucking idiot? What do you expect me to do? Two of my officers committing treason, one of them my own son? I want their heads and those of anyone else who acted alongside them!" He kicked the courtier until the man scrambled up. "Do you understand? I will not be made the laughing stock of Europe over this! My own fucking son...I want his head mounted on a pike and paraded through Berlin! Are my orders clear enough?"

The courtier didn't answer. Instead, he ran back in the direction in which he came. Frederick William sighed. "I should've drowned that boy in the Rhine the day he was born. He's been nothing but a nuisance. Gilbert," He looked at the nation besides him. "Go to Kustrin. This was a slight against you as well. You're the only one I can rely on to make sure my will is carried out. Now, get out of my sight." The king stalked off into the gardens, ready to yell at any soldier who was so much as a fraction of a step out of line.

Gilbert sighed. The king had a point - the crown prince had been trouble for quite some time. He'd been moody and trying to eschew all his duties to play flute and read instead. Gilbert could understand that. He remembered when he was a young nation and enjoyed pissing off his vader. Annoying Germania was his favorite past time if he wasn't pestering Hungary or Poland. This went beyond adolescent antagonism. The king was right, this was high treason and he'd make sure Frederick would understand that whether it was the last thing he did.

"Don't play dumb with me, Fritz. You almost got into France. There were obviously more people who helped you out. I'm not a fucking idiot." Gilbert made his way toward where Frederick was seated. He moved with the carelessness of a cat, acting uninterested in the whole interrogation. "I know I act like one, but I'm more intelligent than you're giving me credit for. I know a lie when I hear one."

"I was the only one who did anything. Katte followed only in an effort to stop me. He was trying to do the right thing and doesn't deserve the punishment you barbarians are giving him! I acted alone and got that far all on my own! See, Gilbert, I'm not nearly as incompetent as father and you would like to believe just because I don't get off from fucking hunting dumb animals and doing all that stupid military shit just to suck Austria's dick."

Prussia turned around and pretended to be shocked. "Wow. Those are some very strong sentiments coming from his royal highness. Care to recant?"

"Fuck you, you red-eyed freak."

"That's what I thought. Alright, we'll go back to playing your game." Gilbert picked up the cane that was resting by the door. Without a word, he walked behind Frederick, making sure to be out of the other's vision. He waited till he saw the teen tense up. Then he started beating him in the back with it, letting out all the frustration Gilbert was feeling about the whole situation. "That's three for lying again, one for calling your countrymen barbarians, four for insulting the king, one for not referring to him correctly, and five because I'm sucking dick to not go into another thirty year war and sucking that dick got me this kingdom that you don't seem to care about. And here's two more because I don't like you."

When he was done, he went back around so Frederick could see him. He let the cane drop to the floor and watched the child who would be his next boss. The crown prince had bit his lip so hard that he'd cut through. Gilbert watched the blood drip down Frederick's chin and felt his hand twitch. At this point, he was no longer sure if it was to wipe it away or to slap him. When Frederick looked up, he had some tears in his eyes that, thankfully, hadn't fallen.

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair. "Fritz, there's an easy way of doing this. Just tell the truth. The king's tearing up Berlin and Potsdam, wanting me to get a confession out of you - regardless of the truth - then send you to your death. All this shit, this is a waste of fucking time. Do you want to die?"

The crown prince didn't answer.

Prussia felt a pit grow in his stomach, but ignored it. He knelt in front of the crown prince so that they were at eye-level with each other. "Just give me the names. No judge in their right mind will sentence anyone who helped you to death. And, when you inherit the throne, you can pardon them! Everything's erased and life can continue. But I need the names."

Frederick sighed. Gilbert could see the fight leaving the prince's body. "Fine. We'll try this your way. There were Katte and Keith, but Keith should be far away by now so please leave him be. Lieutenant von Spaen may have caught onto something, but kept his cards close to his chest."

Gilbert nodded. He'd get a better statement later. The important thing was that he'd broken Frederick. The king's ministers could fight for the details that Frederick William wouldn't need to consider in his decision. "Danke. You can head back to your cell now. The real ministers will deal with you after lunch." He sighed and smiled, feeling a weight off his chest. "You're not a bad kid, Fritz. You're really not. You're just like you're father sometimes, blind to any perspective but your own."

Frederick strained to get up out the chair. He wouldn't say anything, but his back was screaming in pain from the fresh marks on it. He stumbled to the door, stopping when he heard the last bit of what Gilbert said. "And you're a fucking neanderthal. We're not friends, Gilbert. We're not going to be."

"I've told you this before, I can't disobey your father. He's my boss. If I had it my way, you would've been raised differently. All of you would've been."

"And I've told you this before, I wish you'd die. What's your kind good for anyway? We're royalty. We've got plenty of mindless buffoons to carry out our every whim. We don't need morons that just take up space and resources."

Frederick exited and slammed the door as hard as his body would allow him. Gilbert stood in the room, staring after him. It took a few minutes, but he finally laughed. "Kid, you think I haven't thought about that before? As if I'd actually want to live this kind of life."

Gilbert stood besides Frederick, staring out into the courtyard of Kustrin. Neither of them wanted to be there. Neither of them wanted to see this.

When Gilbert had delivered the verdict, he'd hoped Frederick would've yelled at him. If the crown prince would've showed him how he felt, he'd have been able to deal. He's always known how to deal with his anger. Instead, Frederick had broken down. Gilbert was forced to comfort the man as best he could. He hadn't held the prince in years, he hadn't let Gilbert get close enough once he figured out he was on the king's side.

That was an hour ago.

When Katte was brought out, Gilbert looked away. He didn't want to watch his crown prince's lover die. He didn't need to see this, why had he been ordered to watch as well? Frederick William would get an official report of how the event unfolded from some low-level guard who'd blow his paycheck at some pub afterwards. The king didn't need Gilbert's first-hand account, both would detail the same thing. He'd been in many battles before, seen many deaths, but this was the one that made Gilbert nauseous. He started to walk away when Frederick grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"You've followed all his other orders and you'll follow this one. We're both to suffer." The crown prince didn't look at him. "Don't force me to go through this alone to only spare yourself."

Prussia sighed and turned back to the window. He watched Katte sing hymns and pray as he made his way towards them. He watched the dignity with which the young man approached death. He watched - maybe with tears, maybe with none - Frederick and Katte call out to each other, saying everything that had been left unsaid. He watched Katte's head roll to the floor was ease and the crown prince fall into his arms, unconscious.

Gilbert watched.

For the first days after the execution, all was not the same. The guards pretended to go about business as usual. They ignored the moans and screams from Frederick's cell. They tuned him out, made jokes that it was a ghost in the prison instead of the heir to the throne hallucinating and seeing his dead lover in the room with him. The few times that someone entered the room to bring him food or drink, the prince would repeat that Katte was there. Katte was there and he wanted Frederick to flee with him. Every time he tried to leave, he wouldn't be allowed to get through the wall and Katte would return for him, promising to never leave. Why wouldn't they let Frederick leave?

The guards and ministers made an executive decision to omit this to Frederick William.

For his part, Gilbert stayed away from Kustrin. He spent every hour in different pubs and bars throughout the town. No matter how sober he was, he couldn't get the images out of his head. He couldn't stop seeing Katte's eyes and Frederick's limp body. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd failed somewhere along the way. He'd done exactly as he was told, but he'd still forced the worse outcome to happen.

It was the first time he had wanted to die.

A message from the king was the only thing that forced him to return back to Kustrin weeks later. He forced himself to smile at everyone he saw. He resisted the urge to ask the other ministers how they slept at night knowing that they all had helped the king satisfy an unnecessary bloodlust. How they could look at themselves in the mirror and not see all the blood that was all over them.

Prussia stopped in front of the prince's door. He was afraid of what state he'd find him in. He'd heard whispers of what he was like from workers at the prison who came to the pub at night. He didn't expect to see a Frederick who was relatively put together, with eyes that weren't bloodshot, and his nose buried in some snooty French literature.

The prince nodded at him, indicating that Gilbert had his full attention. "The king's pardoned you. You're not facing any punishment. All you've got to do is swear an oath of loyalty to your father and play by his rules." He was troubled by the distressed look on the prince's face. "That means you live. Come on, Fritz, you get a second chance. You're free."

This made Frederick laugh. He carefully put his book down and regarded the nation before him. "But at what cost?"


End file.
